


Denouement

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [317]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Mary, Post return, fluffy at the end, married, mention of time away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 06:53:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: denouement: noun: dā-ˌnü-ˈmäⁿ , dā-ˈnü-: the final outcome of the main dramatic complication in a literary work; the outcome of a complex sequence of eventsFrench dénouement, literally, untying, from Middle French desnouement, from desnouer to untie, from Old French desnoer, from des- de- + noer to tie, from Latin nodare, from nodus knotFirst used 1705





	Denouement

So many endings. Or nearly endings. They were rarely simple or kind to either of them, today's events were almost another denouement as Sherlock would call it when he was in a showing off mood. He wasn't at the moment.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah. Right."

"Would it help -"

"No. Not really."

Sherlock nodded and looked at his hands, hand, the one that wasn't wrapped in a cast. 

"I know, I've known you long enough to know that you aren't going to change. You are who you are. And it's why I bloody love you. And why you drive me up the bloody wall. I'm not sure -"

Sherlock shifted on the hospital bed, but made no sound, other than a sharp breath letting John know the paracetamol wasn't doing anything but taking the edge off the pain he was in.

"You always have your reasons, and to you, the reasons are always enough, once you start something. you care damn all about anything or anyone who tries to slow you down. Even me. Especially me. Because you don't want me to get hurt." Sherlock nodded his head, but said nothing. "You think, you think it doesn't hurt to not know where you've gone, not know if you're hurt or even - we've done dead a couple times, now; mostly dead a couple more - in the Thames, once, uhm, no, twice - the last time on my bloody birthday, even."

"You know that last time was an accident -" Sherlock finally muttered, as he moved to sit up.

"No. NO. Ribs, remember?"

Sherlock unleashed a string of words, a few of which were in English, the rest were unidentifiable, but John had an idea what he was trying to communicate. He managed a smile for the first time in forty-eight hours, then eased him back into the pillows, and brushed that one curl that would never stay put, back behind his ear.

"Why - honestly, John -" Sherlock sighed as he reached for John's trembling hand. John shook his head, but took Sherlock's hand in his and held on tightly.

"Why do I put up with you, keep chasing after you, caring if yer stupid arse is safe, at least not six feet under? That?"

Sherlock bit his lip and nodded again.

John looked down at their clasped hands, and at the rings on their fingers, not matching, nearly so, but not quite, Sherlock's was more brightly polished as he had it cleaned twice a month. while John's had never left his hand once Sherlock had slid it on. "Why? Because it's part of the promises I made to you - let's see now - ten years ago is it now? To be honest, I never saw myself as the marrying kind, but then I never believed in miracles until the day you came back - I could barely tell it was you, except, for your eyes, no one else has your eyes or your lips - or -. You fell onto your knees, I thought you were fainting, or worse, but no, before you even went to hospital, you had to find me and tell me. Nearly killed yourself - to tell me you loved me, you absolute moron. And yet - I've never thought you more beautiful that day - until the day you married me a few months later, when you could walk without a cane, you tried to convince me you could do it earlier - you would've done it that night, that very night you got back - but you had four broken ribs, nearly a punctured lung, and -"

"John."

"No. NO, you don't -" John held Sherlock's hand in both of his smaller ones. "You - get to sit there - and listen. For once."

Sherlock closed his eyes and waited in silence 

"I don't want you to try to keep me safe, or die in my place or any other such rubbish. I want you to be around, to live for me, with me, until we end up in some quiet village, and I have to push you, or you have push me around in a bloody wheelchair, don't care who does the pushing. I just want you to be there, to be here - can you do that for me? For us - because without you, there isn't an us, and there wouldn't be much of me left without you."

Sherlock opened his eyes and whispered, "are you finished?"

John took a breath and blew it out slowly, then stopped and nodded. "I think that's it. Yes. Now you may speak."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him, and crinkled his nose, as he did when he was taken aback. "You really want me around that long?"

John rolled his eyes, then kissed Sherlock's fingers and muttered, "you haven't heard a single word I've said. Not once - in your life."

Sherlock shook his head. "Not true. I've never deleted a single word you've ever said to me -"

"Right - so when I told you to stay down, and instead you tackled the arsehole with the automatic weapon, knocking both of you unconscious, and breaking your arm in two places and bruising a few ribs?"

"I hear every word - just sometimes -" Sherlock turned to look at his husband.

"Yes? Sometimes?"

"Sometimes I'm just a moron."

"Ah. Do you think you could stop once, and just do as you're told?" John couldn't help the smile that was starting to take over his face, as he watched as Sherlock was starting to fall asleep, finally.

"I'll try. Will you - hmmm, stay here, with me, please?"

John rolled his eyes, but kissed Sherlock's fingers once more and whispered, "where else do you think I'd rather be? Yes, I'd rather we were at home in bed, but this will do me, wherever you are -" He knew Sherlock was asleep, but finished with a sigh, "is where I'll always be."


End file.
